


Burgundy

by Syrum



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, I may have set the rating too high, M/M, Nudity, One Shot, Partial Nudity, Sleepy Cuddles, Why is there not an established tag for that?, better safe than sorry, oops my finger slipped, sexy photos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-17 19:38:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14837933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syrum/pseuds/Syrum
Summary: Established relationship.  A meeting, a burgundy tie, and Greg’s penchant for distracting his boyfriend at the worst (best?) possible moment.





	Burgundy

**Author's Note:**

> Temperature is in Celsius because I'm English and don't know how Fahrenheit works (and these boys are English too, so)
> 
> For the record; August heatwaves in London SUCK!

“Babe, you’ve been at that for almost an hour - come to bed.”  Mycroft threw a withering glance over his shoulder at the interruption, and Greg merely rolled his eyes before flopping back on the entirely impractical comforter, bare to the heat of summer and basking a little in the cool breeze within the air-conditioned room.

“Please, Gregory.  This meeting is important - perhaps the most important one I’ll have to attend this year - it is imperative that every small detail is precisely perfect.”  He had returned to the task at hand, filtering through rows of silk and cotton and any number of other fabrics hanging in perfectly colour-coded strips. Greg adopted a fully spread-eagle position; after all, he may as well enjoy the comfortable mattress to its fullest if he was going to be inhabiting it alone for the moment.

“Including the colour of your tie.”  Greg added, and it wasn’t really a question.  It didn’t need to be; certain things were important, he knew, whether he understood the reasoning for it himself or not.

“ _Especially_ the colour of my tie.”  The room lapsed into a comfortable sort of silence and Greg knew not to push the matter; not when his boyfriend was so clearly wound up about the whole event.  He didn’t really understand why, and it wouldn’t be fair of him to ask; there were a great many things which Mycroft simply could not share with him, and to force him to deny a request asked by the man he had trusted all else with would be downright cruel.  He already shared his life, his time, both things being a very precious commodity in their situation.

Greg dreaded to think what Mycroft would be like if he ever had to dress himself for his own wedding.

Finally, the shuffling in the over-large wall of wardrobes ceased and Mycroft emerged with a pleased sort of half-smile, laying a burgundy silk tie out with the remainder of the suit he had selected oh so carefully for himself.  The meeting would go fine, of that Greg had no doubt, but it was important that Mycroft prepare himself mentally for it as well. The careful selection, the routine of it, always seemed to calm him before bed, allowing him to sink into the bliss of unconsciousness without anything further to worry about.

The light clicked off, shrouding the room in darkness and Greg felt the bed beside him dip.

“Is it too warm to cuddle?”  Greg asked, his tone quiet, unfailingly gentle as he pulled Mycroft to him.  While he had chosen to remain naked, the pyjama trousers he would typically wear to bed having been discarded some time prior, Mycroft still donned his usual summer sleep attire in the form of a pale blue long sleeved pyjama top and matching bottoms, both detailed with a monogram that Greg did not recognise and clearly ridiculously expensive.

“Never, darling.”  Tucking his head beneath Greg’s chin, Mycroft allowed himself to be coddled for the moment, strong fingers stroking a trail down his spine.  A fabric-wrapped arm curled itself over Greg’s waist, hooking around to press up against his back to press their bodies closer together. Greg didn’t try to hide the curve of a smile against the top of his lover’s head, a single kiss pressed into the freshly washed tresses as he hummed in contentment.

“Good to hear.”  He would have liked to progress the cuddling to something further, yet as much as the air conditioning unit was doing an exceptional job of cooling the room, the temperatures of the day had peaked frighteningly close to the mid thirties and humidity had reached a somewhat painful ninety four percent.  The remnants of the day had left Mycroft feeling sticky and unpleasant he had said, despite having showered before redressing in his sleepwear, but he was damned if he wasn’t going to get at least five minutes with his boyfriend before they succumbed to sleep.

“Perhaps it is a fraction too warm.”  Mycroft finally admitted after the heat between their two bodies increased fractionally too high, reluctance evident in his voice as he pulled away to lay upon his own side of the large bed.  One hand remained however, cupped over Greg’s hipbone, the need for contact overriding all else and they did not bother with the covers that night.

 

* * *

 

He didn’t have to wait long for the response, less than a minute in fact.  Mycroft almost dropped his phone in his haste to lock the screen as the image came through; one Gregory Lestrade laid out upon burgundy bed sheets - silk, by the look of them - with nothing but a slip of fabric to cover his modesty, a deep red rose clamped between his teeth.  There was nothing in the least bit innocent about the image, from the wicked grin and flash of teeth all the way down to the treasure trail of hair beneath Gregory’s navel which disappeared beneath a crumpled corner of the sheets. His present _situation_ beneath the strategically placed portion of bed linen was decidedly obvious, and not fit for the eyes of anyone save Mycroft himself, despite the attractiveness of the picture he painted.

They did, indeed, match.  In a manner of speaking. The how and the why of it escaped him, for the moment.  He could feel his face slowly turning the colour of his tie, and it was fortunate really that the ambassador and his entourage had left the room only moments before to ‘refresh’ themselves.  Only Mycroft’s own people remained, and he knew he was flushing heavily under the vaguely amused glances he was receiving from those who had noticed his slip. Taking a sizeable gulp from his water glass, Mycroft forced himself back into something resembling his usual calm, legs crossed over one another beneath the long table to hide the insistent twitch of interest.

He would remind Gregory, much later, that sending _titillating_ photographs while he was working without first considering the _consequences_ was perhaps an unwise move, which of course gave him several hours to consider what those particular consequences might entail this time - and _oh_ , he was absolutely going to enjoy that!

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr account is always open; syrum.tumblr.com
> 
> (Now that I'm posting to it again)


End file.
